Last weekend my brother and his mate came to stay, and we made a couple of trips to a couple of pubs with my friends. Now, anyone that knows us (and, to be honest, some who don't) knows that my family is into telling stories, and that my brother is a remarkably good storyteller.
We all sat round a table in this quirky little pub that I love in Newcastle, watching him as he told endless stories about what it's like to be a 17 year-old in high school -- what it's like being a 17 year-old full stop, something that my friends and myself have to look increasingly far back in time to remember.
My brother isn't a quiet bloke at the best of times, but he really comes alive when he's telling a story -- he tells it with his whole face, his accent, his hands. It's an absolute treat to watch and, needless to say, I was beaming with pride.
Storytelling isn't something that we think about all that much. If someone says 'story', you tend to think of a child's story in a book, or something generally made-up.
This is how Google defines a story:
sto·ry'Real people' -- that's the key. We forget that the day-to-day way we relate to each other is made up almost entirely of stories of one form or another. Often it's as much about the way we tell a story as the story itself. I know first hand -- I might try and tell one of my friends one of my brother's stories, keen that they experience it for themselves, but find that I don't tell it in half as entertaining a way as he can.
noun
account of imaginary or real people and events told for entertainment
The other week a group of mates and I got together and we ended up sharing bits of our life stories with each other. We just went round the circle really, everyone sharing something. I tell you, you could have heard a pin drop whenever anyone was speaking.
The stories themselves were amazing, but no less interesting was the way people told them. Some said a lot, some said only a little; some blushed, some didn't; some punctuated with hand gestures, others kept their eyes down. I don't think anyone would have called it that, but we were storytelling.
My housemate is hosting a girls' youth group in our living room this evening -- I can hear them in there, hooting and shrieking away. My housemate recently came back from a 3 week trip to Australia, she was glowing and brown and bursting with new tales to tell. When her girls arrived this evening, they all piled into the living room, sat down and said:
"How was Australia? Tell us lots of stories!"
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| The Bard -- John Martin |
I suspect she still is, with those teenaged girls all gathered round, enthralled.
Storytelling used to be much more engrained into culture, far more formalised and recognised for its deep, deep importance. Troubadour. Bard. Minstrel. Poet.
This painting is one of my most favourites. It's by John Martin and is called The Bard. It illustrates a time in Welsh history when Edward I attempted to kill Welsh culture by murdering any bards he could find. Back then, storytelling was a truly crucial part of society -- word of mouth was the only record of life that ordinary people had.
Google it to see it in full size and look at the way the bard is drawn -- he's like a piece of the landscape, clinging to a craggy rock face, muscle-bound and grey-bearded, steeped in history, looking Zeus-like, godlike on the cliff face. So much bigger than the tiny soldiers below -- the proportions of the painting are blown by his bigness, his absurdly huge form. But what a figure! He beams power and force and defiance. Storytelling more powerful, even, than an army.
Storytelling is a huge part of our society still, but often the telling of our own histories rather than the collective. Blogging itself is storytelling. We're all obsessed with telling our stories, chronicling our lives -- Facebook, MySpace, diaries, journals.
Facebook is now encouraging us to create a visual story of our lives, omitting no detail. Personal stories are so laughably readily available to us, so eagerly broadcasted.
We think so little of sharing our stories with literally thousands of people that we often don't realise we're doing it. I don't necessarily think it's a bad thing to be so overwhelmingly connected to people, but it is good to know that there are some things that just can't be communicated as well as face-to-face. Watching my brother tell his stories will never, can never, be rivalled by a blog post or status update.
No particular conclusion to this one, just -- tell stories! Revel in them! Write them down! It feels good to know that we're doing just the same as we've been doing since people began.
